Home Again
by monkeygirl77
Summary: Naomi has managed to break into an archangels mind. And not just any archangel. the oldest of them all. Thankfully, he has a legion of angels who are willing to try anything to fix their commander. Even if it means poisoning him to death.
1. Chapter 1

"He would never have allowed it to get this bad." Titus shook his head as he rubbed at his shoulder, giving a slight grimace of pain, the muscle was tense and nothing he did aided it in the slightest. "There is no way he is in his right mind."

Abraxos nodded in agreement, looking up to his Captain, Nisroc met his eyes as he sought them out. "Even though it seems impossible, what's to say that there isn't at least a slight possibility that she got her claws into him, it would most certainly explain this sudden change in personality."

"That's a rather large charge to give someone without any proper evidence." Nisroc nodded in agreement though. "I will give you this, something has changed in him, but there is a number of things that could be cause for it."

Puriel hummed. "I agree with them, this change was not a natural one, even on his roughest day he was never as harsh a commander as he is now." He nodded at Titus and Abraxos. "There is one way to gather the evidence we would need, it's already suspected, we just need to prove the occurrence and fix it." He rubbed at his temple, a headache was still pounding deep in his head, he'd been hit rather harshly in training just hours before and it still throbbed as though it had just happened. "We need something that can wound an Archangel enough that their own healing factor would kick in."

He was always one to stand by his men, Nisroc nodded in kind, some part of him agreeing with their accusation. "But what could possibly be potent enough to incite it?"

"A poison." Haniel spoke up from his left, as tense as a board, his back ached from being thrown into the ground so harshly hours previously. "We could get a poison strong enough to bring him near death. It would incite his healing factor to restore him. If he goes back to normal then we have our evidence for our accusation."

"Where would we find such a poison, though?" Abraxos looked between them all. "I doubt the Healer would be inclined to make such a thing."

"No." Puriel shook his head carefully, grimacing at the knocking feeling that came with it. "He's not the same either. Semyaza was a skilled apothecary. He could make one potent enough."

"But who would get him to make it, he doesn't trust us anymore, not that I blame him." Titus gave up on trying to rub the tension away and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "_We_ cast him out. He doesn't much care for our plight. And to poison _him, _even I'd be fearful of that outcome, he could refuse."

Nisroc sighed deeply, leaning back against the pillows, crossing an arm behind his head. "Me and Haniel will go. I believe he may be better in responding to us then anyone else. And if we were to all go, someone would notice, so we'll go and you all cover for our absence."

…

It hadn't been hard for them to track him, he had found a little hut in the middle of a deep forest and set up his home there, alone and quite.

"You want me to _what_?"

Semyaza stood before him, in his workshop, with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Their was distrust in his eyes, and they were not so blind as to not see him eyeing the escape routes available, should he need them. He had been surprised to see them at his door, having gotten up to answer it after the knock that interrupted his silence, and stared at them in surprise as he stepped aside to allow them entrance into his home, away from home.

He looked at them as though they were insane. _He _already hated him, having ordered for him and his legion to be cast out and metaphysically chained to the earth itself. He couldn't believe that they would think they had the right to ask him this favor, knowing the severity of it, whether it worked or it did not, _he _would wake up and demand to know who had created such a concoction, and it would come back at him with a swift harshness.

Nisroc and Haniel exchanged looks.

Semyaza was the only one, other then the Healer, who could make what they needed and they couldn't afford the possibility of him saying 'no'.

The Power nodded his head slowly. "We need you to create a poison strong enough to bring an archangel as close to death as possible without actually killing him."

"No, I heard you." The Grigori rubbed at his head, then at his neck, the phantom feeling of the spiked collar there, and shook his head. "No. I'm not going to put myself in danger like that. I have enough self-preservation for that." He shook his head and gave them both an equal look. "No. I won't do that."

Semyaza turned away from them and returned to his workstation, putting away the herbs and liquids where they belonged in his crazy unorganized organization. Haniel and Nisroc were quick in following him, having come prepared in the event of his refusing, coming to stand on either side of the younger angel, they caught his wrists as he reached up to put jars on the shelf above him.

"Please 'Yaza!" he glared at the older Power. "You have no right to call me that." Nisroc nodded in agreement. "There are many things that I regret 'Yaza, casting you out is one of them, you were just following orders just as we were." The Grigori glared at him a moment, but knew that he couldn't argue that point, and turned back to set the jars on the shelf, despite their hold on him. " We fear that the Mindbreaker has gotten to him 'Yaza."

Semyaza immediately turned to look at him, Haniel nodded in affirmation to the words he'd just spoken, tugging on his arm slightly.

"You think she's gotten to him?" he shook his head as understanding dawned on him. "Bringing him near death would incite his healing and _possibly _mend anything else." He nodded. "Good plan. But my answers not changing."

They exchanged quick looks over the younger angel's head, they had come knowing there was the possibility that he would refuse their request of him, but also swore they wouldn't leave until they got his agreement to create what they needed. Nisroc had chosen Haniel to come with him because out of the five of them, Semyaza knew the two of them the best, they hadn't been raised together, but they had been as close as siblings could be.

Nisroc nodded, and Haniel nodded in response to it, they raised his arms and dug their free fingers into either side of his ribcage. The affect was immediate, the Grigori jolted as though electrified. He went as straight as a board, yelping at the suddenness, and his composure crumbled as though it were a building being demolished.

They didn't stop, just as they had vowed, until he finally nodded his head. Promising and agreeing so long as they stopped, _'stopstopstop! I'll do it! I'll do it! Just let go!'_, and they gave just one more dig for good measure and let him go. Backing away, they watched as the apothecary wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing at his ribs frantically, muttering under his shaky breaths about how much he _hated_ older brothers.

He turned to them a moment later, glaring at them for their unconventional method, and waited until his breathing calmed down to speak to them again.

"You guys are assholes."

They smirked, wiggling their fingers at him menacingly again, and he backed away a step just in case.

"Okay, okay, we don't need to do that again!" he waved his hands quickly. "I'll do it. When do you need it?"

Nisroc smiled. "As soon as you can finish it."

Semyaza nodded, resting his hands on his worktable behind him as he leaned back against the edge of it, breathing a deep sigh in resignation. "I don't want my name to be brought up." He looked between them both with a deep seriousness. "Whether it works or not, I don't want you to say it was me, this is your doing and you take the fall either way it goes on your own."

"Okay." Haniel nodded in agreement. "That's understandable." He shared a nod with Nisroc. "We'll keep your name out of it."

"Then I better get to work."

…

It took him a week to complete his concoction, and it took them another couple days to find a way for one of them to sneak off to collect it, Semyaza had nodded quickly at their arrival and greeting. Shoving the bottle in their hands and shoving them away, telling them to leave him, and not to say his name should the matter of its maker be brought up.

They cornered him on a day of rest, converging on the Archangels room in the empty Villa, catching him by surprise when they all just suddenly appeared before him.

He yelled at them when they surged forward to restrain him; Titus and Abraxos taking both of his arms in hold and yanking him back towards his bed, Nisroc and Haniel taking hold of his legs and lifting him from his feet so that they could pin him to his bed.

He bucked harshly, spitting and cursing at them to release him immediately, and they struggled against his might. They may be strong, but he was the strongest, and they were barely able to get him into the position they needed him in, straining hard to keep him in place.

Puriel took his cue quickly, climbing up to straddle his stomach, forcing his mouth open to pour the poison down his throat. Michael choked on it as it went down, and he stroked down his throat to incite the reflex of swallowing, making sure that the bottle was emptied and he didn't get to spit any of it out, covering his mouth with his hand.

Slowly, the struggles came to a stop, and they all fell back in exhaustion, sighing in relief that the deed was done and now they only had to wait for the outcome. Titus and Abraxos sighed in relief as they fell back against the headrest of the Archangel's great bed, his arms laying over their legs limply, Titus rubbed at his shoulder again with a grimace. The struggling hadn't helped the tension in the slightest.

Haniel and Nisroc fell backwards onto the end of the bed, completely worn from the strain it took to hold the Archangel down, his legs laying limply over their fronts, feet hanging just by their ears, one of their own legs laying limply over his after uncurling from their straddled hold.

Puriel fell to the side in relief, his own leg limp over the archangels stomach, and he rubbed at his head lightly.

"Now we just wait."

And wait they did, well into the night, they stayed in their positions with the knowledge that they would not be missed if their archangel was away as well. The others had dozed off, still in their various precarious positions, waiting for their archangel to wake up again. Titus was the one who remained awake, rubbing at his shoulder still, grimacing in a vain attempt to work the tension out.

"Titus," he started at the voice. "Are you alright?"

He looked down to the source, into the bright blue eyes of his commander, the only one who could make the five toughest warriors in Heaven become fledglings once more. He stared at him in surprise, at the concern shining in his eyes, concern that had been missing for such a long time, and that same concern increasing at his lack of response.

"Is it your shoulder again?" he frowned when the Power nodded mutely. "It's always bothered you after a harsh training." He reached up for him. "Let me help you."

Titus said not a word as he scooted forward, into the Archangel's reach, sucking in a breath when fingers curled into the muscle. He groaned in relief as the fingers dug in just right, as they always did, and the tension started to dissipate away, his commander chuckled softly when he turned completely around, folding his arm around when the Power laid his head against his shoulder to give him better access to the stubborn muscle.

He groaned again when the fingers found a particularly hard knot and dug into it. "Does that feel better, Tus?"

Michael looked about him, to his bed littered with sleeping Powers, and his precarious position over top of them.

"Tus, what happened?"

"You were caught by the Mindbreaker."

There came a soft whine from the mighty Power when his fingers stilled in their rubbing into his shoulder. "That's a mighty accusation, Titus, have you any proof."

"This." He nudged his hand with his shoulder until he began again. "This is our proof."

"I don't understand."

"You weren't you." He pointed at Puriel from his position curled against the Archangel's shoulder. "You struck Puriel in the head with your flat of your sword." Michael wanted to challenge the accusation against him, but he could see the tension in the medic's brow as he slept, his head throbbing even still from such a blow. "Is he okay?"

"He's had a headache on and off for the last week."

"He has?" The archangel reached with his free hand, tugging softly on the leg that lay limply over his stomach until the younger angel's eyes opened, if only to see who was rousing him from his sleep. His eyes winded and he quickly turned himself around, pulling himself forward to sit on his legs, leaning over him in amazement.

"Puriel?"

"It worked!" His medic took hold of his face and turned his head from side to side. "Good Father, it worked!"

He raised an eyebrow lightly. "_What_ worked?"

Puriel smiled at their accomplishment, ignoring the tone being used in his elation, and let go of his face.

"We poisoned you."

"You _what_?"

The medic nodded. "We needed something strong enough to kickstart your healing and Semyaza provided. _Damn _he's good."

Titus reached over his head to punch his brother in the shoulder. "You weren't supposed to say his name, _dumbass_."

His eyes went wide as he realized what he'd done. Michael hummed, "we'll come back to that at a later time, it _will_ be investigated further." He rubbed his free hand over his medic's head, feeling for a bump of any sort, and Puriel gave him an odd look. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me." He rebuffed his Power lightly. "I may be your commander, but I am your older brother first and foremost, don't you dare try and lie to me." The medic nodded sheepishly, as though he were a fledgling, and flinched at the action. A hand curled over the top of his head. "Do you have a headache, Puri?"

Puriel nodded lightly, allowing the hand on the back of his head to guide him downwards, adjusting his position to curl on his side as his head was guided to lay on the archangels stomach. Fingers massaged into his temple and he sighed deeply, relief exuding from him at the feeling, sagging completely against his archangel.

Michael chuckled softly. "Does that feel good, Puri?" he got a soft hum in reply and he smiled. "We'll take care of you all first and then address the rest of this mess."

…

True to their word, Michael was appalled at the state of Heaven while he was not himself, appalled at the treatment of the different flocks, that fledglings were being mistreated, innocents were being sent to the Prisons. That there was unwarranted tortures and abuses going on under his nose.

"We will put a stop to this at once."

They had stopped first for the Guards at the Gate.

Andrew and Daniel looked up as a shadow fell over them, eyes going wide, they jumped to their feet. They received a warm chuckle for their hurry, and it brought them to a pause, staring at the Archangel with great scrutiny.

He waved them down gently. "Don't rush on my account." He eyed _them _with great scrutiny. "You both look like you could use a good rest." He nodded once to himself in self-assurance. "You two go get a good rest, to your rooms with you, return to your posts after. We will begin to work on this unhealthy habit you two have formed."

Michael took great care of his warriors, and his guards, one had to be in their best form to be able to defend to the best of their ability. He made sure all his warriors and guards slept as long as they should, trained hard but not to straining, and took in plenty of nutrients.

Both guards thanked him, and he nodded, waving them off with a smile. Shaking his head as the two brothers turned and ran for their rooms, for their beds, and he knew they would barely make it to drop their things to the floor before collapsing on the soft mattresses.

…

Next, they went after the Mindbreaker.

Michael's not sure how she had managed to capture him into her traps, how he had managed to be dragged there and put under the drill, and at the present moment he doesn't truly care to know. He is back to his true self and will begin rebuilding what had been broken under his _illness_, starting with freeing those she kept to herself.

He is at full power now, completely aware of himself and who he is, and will be _damned _if the Mindbreaker harmed another one of his brothers and sisters.

**_"Naomi." _**

An enraged Archangel is never an opponent anyone ever wants to face, even the four legions back away from their enraged fury, so it was no surprise the immediate terror that came over the angels features as the Viceroy stalked into her Laboratory. The guards at the doors balked under his intense rage and backed away from him, he stilled them with a mere look, Naomi tripped over herself as she backed away from him.

_"Michael?"_

"You brainwashed me."

"I—I—"

He stalked closer, eyes glowing brightly with the Power of an Archangel, barely concealing his burning grace from incinerating them all where they stood.

"Did you think I would not find out."

His fingers curled around her neck and squeezed, she choked, gagging as she clawed at his hand. He wasn't deterred by her attempts and lifted her from her feet in spite of her struggling, holding her up to look him directly in the eyes, she gagged and kicked for purchase under her.

"H—Ho—How?"

"My legion is as loyal as they come." His voice was harsh, unforgiving, her crimes called for no less. "They found a way to fix what should _not_ have been broken."

She grappled at his hand, trying to pry his fingers from around her throat, and he tightened his grip slightly until her struggles ceased.

"I am charging you with the crimes of brainwashing, torture, abuse, and the attempt at usurping the throne that belongs to _me_." He took a calming breath. "Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"I—I—I….Me—Meta—Metatron too….Th—Theo and Th—Thaddeus…..Za—Zach—Zachariah….T—Them to—oo!"

"Thank you." He turned to the guards. "You three, answer quickly, did you play parts in this operation?" the three guards shook their heads frantically as to not direct the archangels wrath at them, they would not go where the Mindbreaker would go, they would go elsewhere, and _no one _wanted to go there. "Did I station you here will I was out of my mind?" they nodded to him quickly, and he returned their nod with one of his own, "You two." He pointed to the two closest to him. "Go free the prisoners in the back." They rushed off to do as they were told. "You." He beckoned him forward. "Take her to the prisons."

He watched as the guard took hold of Naomi firmly, and marched them out, she dared not put up a struggle with the knowledge that the archangel was enraged, and it was directed solely on her.

They waited patiently for them to come out, and slowly but surely, they were joined by the other prisoners, ambling out from the space before them with confusion and fear. Without prompting, his Powers stepped passed him to help them walk forward, and the wounded took the help with silent appreciation.

Michael took them in, bruised and bloody, temples riddled with holes, some adorned in crowns of spikes, and he shook his head sadly.

"Come, we will get you all to the Infirmary."

"_Nis_!"

A youngling had come out in the midst of the ambling bodies appearing from the hall, eyes going wide at the sight of his Captain, he turned to watch his Captain turn at the sound of his name. His own eyes widened at the sight of the youngling, and he quickly parted from the man's side he stood at, jogging forward for the boy. A smile spread over the youngling's face, and he ran forward, colliding against the Captain's chest as he knelt to scoop the boy up. Holding him as close as he could, ignoring the grime and such that covered him, Nisroc buried himself in the boy's shoulder. The little one wrapped his arms around the Power's neck as tight as he could, without choking him, and allowed his legs to be guided around the Power's waist with a large gentle hand.

He smiled at the sight of guardian and charge reunited once more.

Michael watched them for a minute more, as his Power lifted his head, pressing their foreheads together as he whispered to him, and the boy responded to whatever had been said to him, earning a kiss to his nose in turn.

He set a hand on his Captain's shoulder and Nisroc turned to look at him, Michael gave him a smile, and nodded at the boy. "Hello, little Paul." Paul smiled to him in greeting, ducking into his guardians shoulder lightly, and he couldn't blame him. "Let's get them all to the Infirmary."

…

"Raphael, you are about to have your hands full of new patients."

The Healer look up from the volume that he had been writing in at the sound of his older brothers voice. It was a tone that none of them had heard in quite some time. He stood quickly from his stool, crossing the way to come to a rest at his older brothers side, looking him over with great scrutiny.

"You're back?"

Michael frowned at yet another piece of evidence of what had been done to him, what he had turned into, and he reached up to pat his younger brother's cheek.

"My absence was not my own doing." He smiled in reassurance. "Things will be different now."

Raphael stared at him for a long moment and turned to look at the five behind him with suspicion, and they smiled in greeting. "What did you all do?"

"They _poisoned _me." Michael chuckled. "Can you believe that?"

"Who would make such a thing?"

"Can you not think of any who have the same knowledge of herbs that you do?" The older archangel sounded amused. "Will you take care of these individuals?"

Raphael nodded, stepping around him, to the ones that his Powers helped stand. He caressed a few cheeks and turned a few heads this way and that to examine the holes drilled into their heads, hummed at the ones that had the cruel crown of spikes screwed into their temples. He smiled at the youngling, shaking his foot lightly, and Paul gave a soft giggle at it.

"It's good to hear that some things haven't changed." He held his hands out for him and looked to his guardian for permission. "May I?" Nisroc seemed to hesitate, not wanting to give his charge to another after just getting him back, but Paul trusted the Healer and he answered for the both of them as he reached out to the Healer.

Raphael smiled and leaned forward to lift him from his guardians grip, settling him on his arm, brushing his hair aside to see if he had any of the same holes and breathed a sigh of relief when he couldn't spot any. "I will take care of this little one myself." He gestured for the healers that had gathered around them. "Tend to your patients. Use care and compassion, they have been abused greatly, mind the spikes as you pull them out." They nodded to his command and took their new patients with a gentle ease, guiding them across the threshold at a slow pace, as to not overwork them, towards the awaiting beds.

He jerked his head for them to follow him as he turned towards their own bed, leaning over to pull the blankets back and set the youngling down on the soft mattress, Paul giggled again when he wiggled a few fingers over the sole of his foot. The Healer knelt down and set both hands on his lap, tilting his hand from side to side once more just to ensure he hadn't missed the possibility of there being any holes.

The archangel brushed a finger down the bridge of his nose and tapped the tip lightly. "What ails you, little one?" he gave his thighs a light squeeze. "How can I help?"

Paul bit his lip lightly. "My wrist really hurts." He hummed at the admission and held one of his hands out. "My I see it?"

The youngling nodded after a moment of thought and set his hand in the archangels, long nimble fingers curled around the little hand gently, holding it straight as he pulled the sleeve back with his other hand. The skin had been rubbed raw, an angry red, at least one layer of skin rubbed away. He recognized the burns of a manacle when he saw one, anger filled him quickly, and he let it go just as swift, it would do no good for him to be taken over by anger, not when so many needed attentions.

"My, my," he nodded up to him. "I can imagine this might smart a bit." He squeezed his thighs once more. "Let me grab a couple things and we'll get you fixed right up, alright?"

Paul nodded and watched as the Healer stood, gesturing for Abraxos and Titus to part, and dug through jars and vials on the table behind them. He gave a slight sound of accomplishment upon finding what he was looking for, and grabbed a swath of bandages, before he turned and returned to his little patients bedside.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he held his hand out for the little wrist again, Paul watched with a mesmerized fascination as the archangel scooped out a large amount of goop from the jar and rubbed it all around his wrist. It was cool at first, and then it slowly warmed, and the sting of the raw skin slowly began to fade. He wrapped his wrist in the bandages he brought with him and split the end to tie it off. He smiled when Raphael lifted his wrist to press his lips to the bandages, giggling when he pressed a kiss to them, and set it back down in his lap. Let it not be said that the archangel didn't know how to take care of his youngest patients.

"We'll check on it later, okay?"

Paul nodded, and the archangel pet his hair back, leaning forward to peck the tip of his nose as well and Paul giggled again. "Let's get you some rest now." The youngling nodded at him, smiling still from the peck on his nose, he watched as the archangel pulled the blankets back and held them up. "Under the blankets you go." The young boy crawled under the blankets, laying back against the pillows, sighing in content when the Healer tucked the blankets up under his chin and he stretched his bandaged arm over top of the blankets to keep the pressure of them off the tingling wound. "Sleep now, if you need me for _anything_, you just call for me or tell another to get me. Alright?"

He stroked the hair out of the youngling's eyes and smiled when he nodded, stroking the back of his fingers over his cheek, he waited until the youngling's eyes closed peacefully.

Raphael stood carefully from the bed, as to not disturb the young one's light resting, it wouldn't be long until he fell off into the depths of slumber, he would ensure he did. Turning back to the others, gesturing to the Powers first. "Stay with your boy." They nodded and crowded silently at his side, if one of them took a charge, they _all _took a charge. He gestured for Michael to step away from him, and the older archangel followed dutifully, until they were far enough away for privacy, but still close enough for him to return if anything were to happen.

"Michael, _what _happened?"

The older archangel rubbed at his head lightly, it was still tingling, as his body disposed of the poison still. "I am not sure, little brother." He frowned lightly. "I cannot remember."

"How did someone like _Naomi _manage to subdue you?" Raphael wasn't sure how this could have happened. Michael was the strongest angel out of them all. He didn't understand how someone so much younger then him had managed to take him, even if they were fully grown, Michael was nearly as strong as Father was, _nearly_. "I can't imagine you would have gone willingly to her."

"I do not know, little brother, trust me, if anyone would want to know it would most certainly be me." He glanced at his legion over his shoulder, the ones who had not given up on him, so loyal that they would risk everything to try and fix something they weren't sure had even happened. He owed them greatly, they had stuck to his side, charged in front of him while he was vulnerable, and brought him back to himself. "From what I've been told, I started acting differently; lethargic and forgetful, which is unlike me. And then there was darkness, I don't remember beyond that point, I remember being at my desk and someone entering my office, and then darkness." Michael swallowed hard. "When I awoke, I was not myself, I could feel it, I was not in control of my faculties. I could see what I was doing, and despite my attempts, I could not stop myself." He looked to the Healer in sorrow.

"Raphael, I have done so much _harm_, have been so cruel to so _many_."

"They will forgive you, older brother." He reached out to squeeze his hand. "You were not yourself and they know that. We all suspected but dared not bring it up. They will be weary, but they will understand, it was not your fault in the things that came to pass."

"It was done by my hand." Michael squeezed his younger brothers fingers. "I witnessed everything I did to them."

"You are not a cruel person, Michael." Raphael assured him. "You are a gentle soul. Even in battle you do not strike to kill, not if you can help it, you hold life to a very high priority. We know the actions you took were not of your own will." He spared the Powers a look. "I daresay that Semyaza was not the only one to poison you." He turned back with a tilt of his head. "How on earth did they manage to _convince _him to make such a thing."

Michael chuckled and eyed his Captain and Haniel in amusement, they were unaware of their watching them, and turned back to his younger brother. "From what I gather, Haniel was quite loose lipped about it, he _did _refuse at first. Quite unorthodox measures were taken in gaining his support."

His eyebrows scrunched in concern. "They didn't _harm _him, did they?" His older brother chuckled and shook his head. "Far from it. They are older brothers. Just as you are. I'm sure you can think of a few methods to gain compliance from a younger." It took a moment for him to comprehend it and chuckled at the astonishment that shone in the younger archangels eyes, among the astonishment was amusement. "Oh, _indeed_, and from what I was told he had the same reaction he had eons before."

Raphael smiled in amusement and his older brother squeezed his fingers again. "From what I remember, as well, you used to take advantage of that weakness. Especially when you wanted him to make something for you and he'd refuse." The Healer nodded with a small chuckle. "He was particularly stubborn, even then, with putting his specialty to good use. I merely encouraged him."

They both remembered the common sight of the Healer looming over the small Grigori, holding his arms above his head with a grip on his wrists, rather cruelly digging into his ribs with his free hand. Only freeing him when he promised to do as was asked of him, and then perhaps he carried on for a bit longer, because it was in his opinion that the small Grigori Captain didn't laugh nearly enough.

"Is that what we're calling it now, little brother?" Raphael smacked the back of his free hand against his older brothers stomach. "You were just as bad as I was, and you know it to be true."

Michael held his hands up placatingly, taking the Healers with his when he didn't release their grip, eyes sparkling with amusement. "I concede to your point."

The younger archangel quirked the corner of his lips upwards in a smug expression for a moment before it cooled into something more passive once more. "Where do you go now?"

"My intention is for the Prisons." They let go of each other's hands and he ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. "Prepare yourself for them."

"We will be ready." He turned and waved his own legion to him. "Take my Virtues with you."

…

He knew that there would be a spreading of knowledge when the guards arrived with the Mindbreaker to the Prisons, and they expected a confrontation upon breaking through the doors to the Prison within, weapons drawn and ready for battle. Guards stood on the defense, spears and swords pointing at them in preparation of their assault, waiting for the order from their own Captain.

The Powers bent at the knee, getting into position, as both sides prepared to clash together. There was a wave of unease as the archangel walked in behind them, arms crossed tightly over his chest, looking them all over with a particular look, some even faltered in their stance at his expression. Michael took great care of those who served under his ultimate command, and that included the Guards of Heaven, he surpassed any Captain within his flock or another, he treated them first and foremost as an older brother would, and then as their Commander. He knew most of his flock rather well, most of them he had raised himself, and they knew just as well in return.

"If _any _of you so much as _flick _your weapons in my direction, there will be consequences, and they will be delivered swiftly in front of _everyone _as witnesses."

Meaning they also knew he did not make empty threats.

The guards nodded as one, not wanting to test the archangels weary patience, it was in short supply at the moment, and bowed to his will. Stepping away from him and clearing his path, Michael nodded once in affirmation and stepped forward, through the lines of guards, and came to stand in front of the two Wardens. They stood tall, but he was not so blind as to not see the fear in their eyes, they had seen the bruises around Naomi's neck when she arrived for her imprisonment at the Archangel's command, Michael was in a wrathful mood, in his _right_ mind, and that was _much _worse then when he had been under the Mindbreakers spell.

"I would like to see the _state _of your prisoners, Thaddeus, Theo."

At his right shoulder stood the Captain of the Powers and behind him the rest of his legion, at his left shoulder stood the Captain of the Virtues and behind him the rest of his legion, both legions were a force to reckon with, and with the guards wilting under the Commanders words, they would stand no chance in standing against them.

The Archangel could wipe the floor with them and allow the two legions to have whatever was left.

They nodded with silent terror, there was a spark in their Commander's eyes, a spark of untold retribution at the smallest of pin drops.

"Yes sir."

The two Warden's saluted sharply and turned, leading them through the large cast iron doors that led to the cells within the Prison itself, leading them passed whimpering souls and silent body's. The only tell, for some, that they still lived with them was the minute rise and fall of their chest. Those sitting against the iron gates crawled away from them at the sight of the Warden's walking before them, eyes staring at the archangel has he passed behind them, and they met the eyes of the passing legions.

They went tense when the Archangel stopped. Coming to a stand still in the middle of the hall, and they weren't even half way through, he had seen enough. He had seen enough bloody bodies, heard enough whimpering, saw enough of the utter terror that filled their eyes as they passed.

He held a hand out. "Your keys." They flinched as they handed them over. He held them over his shoulders, for both Captains to take. "Release them all. The Prison is under my Command now. Cases will be reevaluated." He gestured to four guards aligning the wall, and they pointed at themselves in question, he nodded. "Take them to an empty cell and lock them in."

Michael stepped to the side at the sudden surge from beside him, Nisroc had passed the key back to Haniel, rushing forward to catch the Primary Warden by the front, fingers curling tightly in his tunic as he lifted him from his feet and threw him against the stone wall behind him. The guards that had come to take him jumped away at the Power's sudden appearance. "Where is he? _Where _is he, Thaddeus? I _swear_ to Father, if you harmed a _hair_ on his head, I _will_ kill you where you stand!"

Thaddeus stared at his Captain in shock, Nisroc was not one for violence when it was not called for and was not one to make threats on another's life. His eyes shot to his Commanders, and Michael shrugged, gesturing to the Power that held him firmly against the wall.

"I would answer him, his patience seems to be in thin supply."

"I—I don't know!" The Power's eyes began to shine lightly, Nisroc's temper was not easy to incite, but it was possible. "I swear! I don't! He pulled that little brat free and they've been hiding since!" He stuttered slightly in the face of inciting the Captain's violent temper. "I've searched everywhere! I can't find him—I swear!—I don't know where he is!"

Michael set a hand on his Captain's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We will find your missing fledgling, my brother, let him be taken to where he belongs." Nisroc was reluctant when he nodded, dropping the Warden to his feet, letting the guards swoop in to take him captive, as they escorted both him and Theo down the hall for an empty cell.

Michael nodded at him, squeezing his shoulder again, and turned to the remaining guards around them.

"Who all has a key?"

A number of them raised their hands in acknowledgement to his question, and he nodded, gesturing for them to follow the two legions.

"You will aid in freeing them and escorting them to the Infirmary. Any who mistreat them will answer to me. Am I _understand_?"

They nodded, spreading out with the legions to unlock cell doors and ease the prisoner out, he shook his head as he walked through the masses. Smiling to prisoners as they walked passed him, limping or stumbling, some leaning heavily on the side of a guard or a member of the two legions, others needing to be carried out of their cells.

A poor soul, beaten and bloody, ambled down the path towards him, and he just barely managed to step forward enough to catch him when his legs gave out. "Easy, easy." He gently bent and lifted the broken angel from his feet, staring at the bloody foot prints he left as his trail, holding him close despite the injuries he may have when a sob broke through his heavy breathing. "It's alright, you're alright." Bloody fingers curled into his tunic. "Y—You—You're ba—back…You—You're b—ba—back!"

Michael nodded softly, kissing the side of his head gently, despite the blood and grime that covered it. "I'm back. We're going to get you taken care of, little one, it's going to be okay now." He nodded to the guard nearest to him and they stepped forward to take the incapacitated angel from his arms. "Go with him now, he's going to take you to the Infirmary, the Healer is waiting for you."

He was passed easily from one set of arms to the next, bloody fingers uncurling from his tunic to curl into the guards. "I—I li—like the He—Heal—Healer." The admission brought a smile to the archangels face. "He'll be glad to hear that." He turned to the guard. "Take him swiftly."

"Michael."

He turned at the call of his name, one of the Virtues beckoned him over, and he walked through the milling crowd carefully to meet at his side. "Yes, Zed?"

"In here."

There was a body curled in the back corner of the room, shivering under a thin blanket, his head hidden under the measly fabric. Blood painted the bottom of his cell and stained the thin blanket he covered himself with.

"A key, someone give me a key." A guard was at his side immediately, setting his key in the archangels waiting hand, and he softly unlocked the cell door and pushed it open. The shivering increased at the squeak it made as he pushed it open, stepping lightly in the cell, he knelt before the quivering angel.

"Little one, it's alright, can you come out?"

"You'll never get him to respond to you like that." They both turned at the sound of the new voice, an angel stood leaning against the cell door, arms folded through the iron squares in the pattern, his cell hadn't been reached yet to be released. He was dirty and had dried blood over his left temple, but still smiled at their turn of attention, waving a few fingers in greeting. "Hey."

Michael stared at him in amazement, knowing who the angel was with needing to be introduced, he's seen this angel plenty enough at this point in his life. _"Zaveriel?"_

"That's my name."

As if by simply hearing his voice, the Captain of the Power's appeared, "Zaves." Reaching through the bars, he curled his hand around the young messenger's cheek. "Nis?" one of his hands lifted to take a fist full of the Power's tunic. He nodded, smiling at his younger brother. "We're going to get you out of here." He waved for a guard and he opened the gate. Zaves laughed and fell forward into his chest, clutching at his tunic, the Power caught him easily and pulled him close, his eyes going wide at the foot prints trailing behind him. "Zaves, you're feet—" he was interrupted by the messenger. "Are _completely _numb. So, if you move, I'm going to face plant on the floor. Please don't move." The Captain laughed softly, sweeping him up from his feet. "Go with this guard. Behave yourself. I will be there shortly." Zaves laughed as he was passed to the guard that unlocked his cell. "I _always_ behave."

The little messenger steered the guard around to the cell across from his. "'Reel, come on, we're breakin out of this joint!"

Michael turned in surprise, watching as eyes poked out from under the blanket, he continued to shiver but reached for the open cell. "Let's get you out of here, little one." Gadreel nodded in permission for him to lift him from the ground. He stepped out of the cell and passed him to a guard. "Get him to the Infirmary immediately. He may be in shock." He kissed the side of the prisoners head. "You're going to be alright now Gadreel." A shaking fist curled into the front of his tunic, and he takes hold of it, pressing his lips to the back of it. "It's going to be alright, baby brother, we'll get you taken care of, and then you'll come to stay with me."

"Can I come stay with you, big brother?"

He chuckled as he looked up to the messenger, his cheeky smile still present even after the abuse and torture he had lived through. "I think my Captain would fight me on that and the Healer might fight _him_ on that."

"Aww, Nis, you'd let me stay with you?" the Captain smiled. "Always." He pat the guard's arm lightly. "Go."

"Guys!"

They both turned to the voice, both feeling a bit brighter after the encounter with the messenger, Haniel waved them over. He stood under a vent. "I think you'll want to see this." They both stepped forward, crossing down the emptying hall to stand under the vent with him, looking up to see what there was they needed to see.

"Haniel, there's nothing there."

"Nothin—_Guys?" _He called out. "It's just us. Everything's good again. You guys _know _us."

"Han—_Sasha." _Nisroc was on the verge of telling him off, for wasting his time when he had a fledgling to find, when a familiar face appeared above them. Another face appeared next to his, dirty curls framing her face, and Michael stared at her. _"Akeelah." _

Neither fledgling moved an inch.

"Are you better again, Micha?"

He nodded, "I'm better again." Raising his arms slightly he tried to reach the vent, but it was just out of reach. "Can you two come down?" both fledglings exchanged a look, and nodded, heaving to push the heavy vent cover away. Sasha let his friend go first, and Akeelah slowly lowered herself from the vent in the ceiling, Michael reached up, wrapping his fingers around her waist, he pulled her down to sit on his shoulder for him to adjust his grip and pull her down completely. He passed her to his Captain as the boy began lowering himself as well, reaching up to grip him about the waist, set him on shoulder in similar fashion, and pull him around. "Nisroc, I'll trade you fledglings." His Captain nodded, holding his fledgling out to him, and he passed his boy over as he took his girl.

Akeelah sat up straight in his arms, little hands pressing to his cheeks firmly, looking him straight in the eyes as though she was looking for trickery.

"You promise, you're good again?"

"I swear it."

"Good." She leaned forward, hugging herself close to him, and he curled his arms around her just as tight. "I missed you big brother."

"I'm back now." He kissed the side of her head. "Everything's going to be alright again." The archangel pulled her away slightly. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, looking over at her friend, Sasha was whispering up to his guardian as he pressed himself as close to his chest as he could. "Sasha got me into our hidey place when we first got here." As if from hearing his name, Sasha looked over at his friend, holding out a little first for her. "We hid." She reached out and bumped hers against it.

"Let's get back to the Infirmary anyway."

…

**AN: Hope ya'll like it! More to come! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

The Infirmary was near capacity as they entered, guards still carrying and aiding Prisoners enter, the floor was littered with red footprints as they milled through. Healers were bustling about to gather up the Prisoners that they could and guide them quickly to a bed, to get them off their injured feet as soon as they could, rushing around to gather supplies and basins of clean water to begin sponging away the grime and dried blood that slicked their skin.

Somewhere in this mess was two Prisoners that were held very close to their hearts, and they looked around for the Sentry and the messenger as the Healer closed in on them.

Akeelah reached for him, from where she sat on the Viceroy's arm, and Raphael was quick in lifted her from his hold and pulling her into his embrace. She curled around him, curling her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Hi, big bear."

"My little bear." He kissed the side of her head despite the grime that coated it. "How I've missed you in my arms."

She returned a kiss to his cheek. "I missed you too."

The Healer smiled at her, curling long nimble fingers around her cheek when she leaned back to look at him, rubbing his thumb over her cheek bone. "Are you alright?"

"I'm dirty."

He chuckled warmly. "You most certainly are." Turning, he looked to the other fledgling, held securely in the Power's arms. Sasha smiled at him in greeting, and he returned it in kind, setting a hand on his head. "Are you alright, little one?"

The boy nodded, "I'm dirty too."

There was another warm chuckle, and he nodded. "You most certainly are." He poked him in the nose and looked down to the little girl on his arm. "Do you two want to get cleaned up?"

Michael stepped to the side as two healers appeared at his brother's side, without being called or prompted, with steaming warm basins of water and sponges. Raphael gestured for them to follow as he stepped forward, carrying his fledgling carefully, to the beds on Paul's left, and gestured again for Nisroc to take the bed nearest his other charge. The healers set the basins of water down on the tables before the bed, and the numerous sponges they carried, and stepped forward to lay another thick sheet over the beds as to not spread the filth over the clean blankets as they were being washed.

Once the bed was covered, his brother sat on the edge, setting the fledgling down in the middle of the bed. With a gesture of his hand, the healer pushed the cart with the basin of steaming warm water and sponges closer, excusing themselves to fetch a drying cloth and some clean clothing for the fledglings to wear after their bathing.

Akeelah eyed the basin with scrutiny and the Healer laughed at the expression, reaching forward to dip the sponge into the water, wring out the excess, and rubbed it against her arm. "Just water, see," he rubbed a small circle of grime away to reveal the clean toned skin underneath. "Just water." She nodded, reaching forward to touch it for herself, and her little fingers squeezed water out of it that fell down onto her legs.

"Orion?"

The healer had returned, draping a drying cloth and clothing for each fledgling over the edge of their beds, and looked up at his calling of her name.

Raphael looked at her from over his shoulder. "Can you fetch me some lavender soap and another basin?"

She nodded, hurrying away to gather what he had requested, and Michael hummed thoughtfully as he watched her go with haste. "She is still in training, yes?"

"Indeed, she is, a quick learner too."

While she was gone, he returned his attention to the fledgling, Akeelah looked up to meet his eyes and he smiled. Setting the sponge aside, he took hold of the hem of her little tunic, tugging it upwards gently. "Let's get this off." She nodded, and the fledgling slowly tugged the ragged top up over her head, holding it out for the Healer once she got it completely off. Raphael set it aside, he would dispose of it later, and turned just as the younger healer returned with his items. Nodding in thanks, he carefully tugged the other basin of water to the side of the bed, indicating that it was for washing the dirt and such from her curls when it came to that point.

Dipping the sponge in the other basin once more, he lathered the lavender soap into it, and reached for her arm. Scrubbing at her little hand first, it settled in his palm as he rubbed over her arm, clearing away the dirt and grime that had gathered there, before turning to the other arm and doing the same. Rinsing the sponge, he rinsed the suds away, and moved on to her trunk. Carefully wiping the dirt from her face, tapping her on the nose as he did gained him a small giggle, and down her neck to her chest. From her chest he circled down to her belly, wiggling a few fingers here and there, he smiled as she squirmed and giggled again.

Michael smiled at their interaction, looking up beyond them to his Captain, having finished his charge's top before them, he was rubbing the sponge down his legs and over his feet, whispering to him as he went in a conversation that they were not privy to hear.

Akeelah curled her cleaned fingers into his tunic as the Healer held her against him so he could clean her back and leaned back so that she could stretch her legs out into his lap, kicking at him when he poked at her sole softly.

Raphael positioned the basin below them where he needed it to be and pat his lap. "Lay down here for me."

She crawled forward, curled in the warm drying towel, and laid down on his lap. He pulled her up a bit more, her head resting against the side of his leg, over the basin of water. Using the sponge, he soaked it, and wrung it out in her curls, a few times again and again, until they were nice and wet, and lathered the lavender scented soap in them. Massaging her scalp gently, he worked the soap into every curl, until it was a sudsy ball of curls, and wrung the excess soap out with his hands before taking the sponge back up and rinsing the soap out again.

Akeelah kept herself distracted playing with her fingers as he rinsed her curls out and wrung them dry of the excess water, and looked up to his distracted expression, watching as he did as he did, and reached up to poke at his cheek when she was sure he wasn't watching her. Raphael looked down at the immediate feeling of a little finger poking his cheek, and smiled at the fledgling, she returned the smile with one of her own. "Yes, little bear?"

"Can I come with you?"

He knew what she was asking for and nodded. "After things settle down again, I'll carry you around with me to watch the others rest." He poked her in the belly with his left hand. "As you should do."

"But I'm not tired, big bear."

"I know you're not, little bear."

Finished with her hair, he helped her back up, and dried her hair with the warm towel. She lifted her arms as he held the tunic out and settled into it as he pulled her to her feet to straighten it completely out. He lifted her from the bed for a moment, standing himself, for Orion to remove the thick sheet, and immediately sat her back on the soft blankets.

"Get under there." He pointed at the blankets, and she giggled softly, climbing under the blankets.

There was a slight tug to the back of his tunic, and he leaned around to see who it was, smiling at the other fledgling. "Yes, little one?"

Nisroc sat on the edge of the bed they'd been given, leaning forward on his elbows, watching his fledgling with a protective intensity that was not uncommon from one who was given a small fledgling to raise. Sasha didn't utter a single word, pointing over to the older boy next to his bed, watching them with equal amounts of silence.

He gave an approving nod. "Yes, you may get in bed with Paul."

Sasha smiled, scurrying off for his older brother, climbing up next to him to lay with him. Paul wrapped him in his arms and laid with him against the pillow, the Power turning to tuck the blankets up under their chins, whispering to them again something that was not meant for their ears. They both nodded and he reached down to stroke both of their cheeks, kneeling to press his lips to both of their heads, softly goading them into sleeping.

Smiling at the three, he turned back to his own fledgling. "I know you're not sleepy at the moment. But you try and take a small nap at least, for me?"

She nodded sluggishly, sleeps hold on her too strong for her to fight off and curled up on her side. "Okay, big bear."

Raphael smiled as her eyes slowly fluttered closed and stood from the edge of the bed.

"Nisroc." The Captain turned at his call. "Watch over them for me?" He nodded in affirmation to the request and looked over to the other little fledgling sleeping a bed away, smiling at her peaceful expression, before turning back to his two young ones to see theirs as well.

Raphael stepped away from them, gesturing for Michael to follow, and the Viceroy followed the silent command. He led him just away just a bit, but close enough to still hear their youngest patients if they were to call for him and turned to face him so their conversation may be as private as one could be in as busy a place as the Infirmary.

"There are quite a few _more _then I expected there to be, brother."

Michael nodded, a light heating of shame coming over him, ducking under his brother's hard gaze. "I did a lot of damage while away from my own senses. _I _was surprised at how many were caged in there."

His brother nodded, his gaze hard, but not judgmental.

If there was any blame to share, it was partially in his own hands as well, it was him who had urged them all to give the Mindbreaker a second chance. Despite him exiling her from his flock, he still cared for her, perhaps more then he should have, he couldn't help his big heart. She had seemed remorseful for her wrongdoings and had asked him to give her another chance, to right the wrongs she had committed, and he, being the compassionate heart that he was, he convinced the council to allow it.

He had never thought that she might return to old ways.

Raphael knew that he was at just as much fault as his brother was, perhaps more, seeing as he had been the start of it all in allowing her to convince him to give her that second chance she never should have gotten.

"If anyone is at fault, brother, it is I."

Michael squeezed his arm in comfort. "You couldn't have known that she would betray you again."

"But I should have. There was a reason we had agreed to leave them where they were being kept. This pain and suffering is on my hands. All of this anguish is my own fault and no one else's."

"I cannot blame you for following your heart." The older archangel cupped his cheek lightly. "It's what makes you who you are."

"I can't help but feel resp—"

There was a commotion that cut him off, both archangels turned to spy what had happened, as a crowd of healers and guards converged on an individual that was just too short to see over all their shoulders.

"Hey, hey, hey!"

The Healers Virtues dived into the crowd, the Powers watching from their little ones bedside intently should they need to step in, the Virtues shoved through, moving people aside and slipping passed the gathering crowd.

Sharing a look, they stepped forward to join the fray unfolding before them, touching shoulders to alert the ones in front of them to step aside for them to pass. Zed was helping someone climb back to their feet, a bruise already forming under their eye, and Constantine had one of the Prisoners by the midsection. They pointed at the healer. "Don't you _dare _touch 'Reel!"

"Zaves, you can't just attack people!" Oren looked between the bruised healer and the freshly released Prisoner, standing between them, should the volatile Prisoner lash out again.

He did, Zaveriel lunged forward, Zed straining to keep him in place, reaching out for the healer who tried touch his friend. "I'll attack _anyone _who tries to touch my friend!"

"That is _more _than enough." Michael hummed in agreement as his younger brother stepped forward to enter the mess that had unfolded before them, the messenger was shaking with pent up emotion, and looked ready to come at them all for stepping to close to his friend. Raphael came to stand beside Oren, pointing first at the bruised healer. "I thank you for your help Sampson, but I will take it from here, get yourself patched up." The healer nodded at his release and stepped away with another to get the cut to his cheek patched up, Zaveriel had clearly not withheld any power in his swing. He turned to the vibrating messenger, pointing a finger at him in warning, Zaves stared at him silently. "I will take care of you and your friend, myself. And if you even think about attacking _me_, I don't much care _where _you came from, I'll have you stripped over your bed before you can even _blink_. Do you understand me?"

"He tri—"

"Do you _understand _me?"

Zaves stared at him for a long minute. "Yes sir." And looked down to avert his eyes.

A warm hand slides over his cheek and fingers curl around the back of his neck. "Zed, you can let him go. He's not going anywhere. Are you, little hummingbird?"

He looks back up, meeting his old guardian's eyes, and shakes his head silently. The Healer smiles down at him, rubbing his thumb over his cheek, and leaned down to press their foreheads together. "Let me help you now, little hummingbird? You and your friend?"

The younger angel looked up at him, gazing into his eyes, and he nodded as best as he could. "Okay."

"Good boy." He sweeps the young messenger off his feet, Zaves gives a slight yelp, curling his arms around his older brothers neck when the ground is swooped away from him. "The first thing we'll do is get you off those feet. Don't think I missed the footprints you were leaving on my flooring." He turns and the crowd disperses at a jerk of his head, returning to their tasks, and he looks to Michael for a moment as he passes. "Bring Gadreel, would you?"

Michael steps forward, with a quick nod, and kneels before the Sentry who's folded up on himself on the edge of the bed he rests on.

"I'm going to move you, okay little one?"

Gadreel looks up at him silently, eyes him carefully, as though looking for a threat, and nods his consent. Shifting forward, he collapses into the archangels arms, and feels himself being lifted in a gentle cradle.

Zaves lays his head on the Healer's shoulder. "For a moment there I thought I'd never see you again."

Raphael hums. "You can't get rid of me that easily I'm afraid." He looks down at him and smiles. "Tis the burden one must carry when I'm rather fond of them."

"Aww, you're fond of me?"

"You know I am, little one."

Truth be told, he has raised many angels, seen many fledglings grow up, but none had been as memorable as this one had been. Zaveriel had been an energetic little thing, running around and causing as much chaos as he could, running between healers and causing them to trip over their feet. He'd caused more trouble then he was worth most days, he'd been bent of the edge of many beds, bent over the edge of his desk, many _many _times, but he wouldn't have given him up for anything in creation. Zaveriel was his, his boy, and he wouldn't ever give that up.

"I know."

"I would hope so," he chuckles. "I let you get away with much more then I do most everybody else."

"That's because you love me."

The Healer kisses the side of his head. "I do."

He sets him on the bed directly to the left of Akeelah's, so that they two friends could be close, and turns her way for a moment to ensure she is still asleep and turns back when his assurance is made. Together, the two archangels sponge bath the two Prisoners clean, tends to their various wounds and their feet. He gives them both a tonic to drink and Michael gets Gadreel to drink it rather easily, but he as to squeeze his witty messenger's knee and pours the tonic in when he opens his mouth to laugh.

There's a look of betrayal, but Zaves swallows the foul-tasting concoction in one go, and lays back in his pillows.

Raphael smiles at him, patting his leg lightly. "You get some sleep." And tucks the blanket up under his chin.

Michael smiles at them as he watches their tender moment. "Nisroc." His Captain looks up at the sound of his name, stroking his fingers through his fledglings hair. "Watch over them all for us?" He nods at the request, Zaveriel and Gadreel are a couple of his closest friends, they are in good hands.

"Brother?" he reaches for Raphael, and the Healer comes to meet at his side, confusion shining in his eyes. "I'm going for Zachariah, and I believe you should join me."

He tilts his head. "Why me?"

"There is only one other who knows the herbal ingredients needed to poison an archangel outside of yourself and Semyaza."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: a bit of filler progress to hold you over for the actual next chapter**

As they walked down the Axis together towards their surprise destination, Michael takes the opportunity to look around at all the damage that has been wrought under his hand, as indirect as it may be while under the influence of a cruel deceiver, this is all to blame on him.

Buildings are destroyed, carts lay as fragments under their feet as they walk over the stone path, there's an emptiness along the Axis that should have never been allowed to grow and flower into something so deceivingly beautiful.

"Brother," the Healer speaks up from the older archangels right side, his staff thumping against the stone as they walk down the street, looking up to him in confusion. "I don't understand why you had me join you. I have patients I should be tending to. I don't have time for adventures."

"Believe me, little brother," Michael spares him a glance. "You will want to be present."

"But, for what?" Raphael is beginning to sound rather annoyed. "You haven't even told me where we are heading."

Truth be told, he wasn't exactly sure how his brother would react to what he was sure they would encounter, that being the reason he hadn't told him of what their destination was. There were few beings who knew the herbs needed to create a poison strong enough to incapacitate an archangel, and they had all been taught that fine knowledge by the Healer himself, and they ones he taught that knowledge to was limited in quantity. Semyaza had been raised by the Healer, until he chose the Choir at his Choosing, and was one of the few who had been taught that fine art. It was his specialty, having taken the teachings he was provided and expanding on them that even the Healer hadn't thought, and he used it with great care and great caution. Though, both were also taken in hand by a great stubbornness, it was not against his craft, it was just in his character. Just as the Healer could be stubborn himself. The other was his own Virtue, Zed, and he himself excelled in the craft he had been chosen to be taught, very much not as stubborn as his brother had been. Though the Virtue had the knowledge to create poisons untraceable, he preferred to use his specialty for healing, providing most of the tonics and concoctions that the Infirmary used on a daily basis.

And, there was one other who knew what was needed to create such a drought, one that was taught the fine art of an apothecary because of his place in tending to the herbs. He knew the ingredients that were needed because he knew all the plants of which he watched over and tended to.

Michael knew who had made the poison that had rendered him incapacitated, he knew it was not Zed, for he would never go against his commanders teachings in such a way. Semyaza hadn't been willing to make the poison needed to wake him up from his influenced state, not without urging from another source, and he hated those that thought they could order him about too much to be swayed by much of anyone else, and not even he would dare abuse the Healer's teachings. Raphael did not respond kindly to those who abuse his teachings. He was a Healer, he taught others how to heal, he did not teach for one to harm another.

So that left only one, whom he knew would not go against his former guardian in such a manner willingly, none of his pupils, former or current, never wanted to disappoint their old teacher and guardian.

It was process by elimination on his part, if not Zed of Semyaza, there was only one other.

"The Garden?" Michael looked over to his younger brother, Raphael stared at the great building in wonder, before turning to look at his older brother. "Why are we going here?"

"You taught only three the fine arts of an apothecary, yes?"

"Yes." The Healer nodded in confusion, understanding hadn't dawned on him yet, and he tilted his head slightly. "Semyaza, Zed, and Joshua."

Michael nodded, falling silent, and sighed when it still didn't seem to dawn on him why they were there. Gesturing for him to follow, he stepped forward onto the cobble stone path that winded through the vast lush Garden, following the path until they ran into the faint echo of voices, and continued drawing closer and closer to where they originated from.

There were two beings standing in the clearing they approached.

One stood with their head bowed slightly, but wise eyes staring up at their companion, bruises littering their face, not uttering a single word. The other was screaming, raging, thrusting fingers into the others face.

"You had one job! One! You said it would debilitate him!"

"And, it did." The calm one nodded softly. "You never said for me to make it irreparable, Zachariah."

"You should have already known, you dimwit! Have you any idea what's going to happen to me because of your incompetence!"

"Perhaps, you will be more clearly spoken in the future."

And then it happened, what he had been sure would come to pass, being which was the reason he brought the Healer with him on this adventure. Zachariah pulled his hand back, ring and all, and backhanded him so hard across the face that it caused him to whip around. Bruised green eyes peered over at them, as he touched a hand to his cheek, and looked down as he pulled it away to see blood staining his fingers.

Thunder rumbled overhead.

"How _dare _you!"

He had thought he would deal with Zachariah on his own, but it was his brothers grown fledgling that had been used and undoubtedly abused, thus he thought it appropriate to let the Healer be the one to deal with these transgressions. Thunder rumbles, and his brothers eyes blaze with a heated rage, as he steps forward. It's more of a stalking really. His younger brother is stalking forward.

"How _dare _you harm what's _mine_!"

The seraph is shocked at the notion of having been caught, holding his hands up placatingly towards the Healer, as he stalks close and closer. "Now, Healer, it's not what it looks like." He points a shaking finger at the Gardener. "He created a potion strong enough to incapacitate an archangel. He abused your teachings."

"_Joshua _would _never _abuse my teachings!" Only two sets of eyes see the way his fingers tighten around his staff as he quickly approach's the seraph, the only forewarning that's given, before he swings his staff around and whips it into the stomach of his grown fledgling's abuser. "Not unless he was coerced!"

Zachariah wheezes at the impact, folding over on himself as he wraps his arms around his stomach. "Joshua would never _willingly _harm _anyone_!" The Healer swings his staff around and cracks harshly over the abusers head. "How dare _you _intimidate one of _my _fledgling's into abusing _my _teachings!" Zachariah falls forward, collapsing harshly to the ground under him, hands whipping up to curl around his head. He jabbed the butt of his staff between the younger angels shoulders. "You _stay _there." Zachariah nods miserably, not daring to say a word, lest he direct the Healer's violent temper back on himself again.

Raphael leaves him there, stepping over Zachariah's prone form, and comes to stand before his Gardener. "Let me see, my little willow." Joshua straightens, pulling his hand away from his smarting cheek, to allow the Healer to examine the extent of the damage. God's Healer took hold of his chin carefully, tilting his head from one side to the other, examining the bruises with practiced eyes. "Nothing to bad, now." He touches a finger to the glistening cut under his eye. "A bit of bruising and a small laceration."

Joshua smiles at him. "I did not want to make such a thing."

"I know you would never. Not willingly." The archangel stroked his fingers lightly over his cheek. "You're coming with me. You're brothers will help tend to you."

"They can be so smothering." The Gardener smiles with an ounce of cheekiness. "Do they have to?"

"They would force their way in, and you know it."

"Come." He curls his arm around the Gardeners shoulders. "We will get you taken care of." He hums as they step over Zachariah's prone form. "Do not think I don't see those bags under your eyes hidden underneath all those bruises. We will patch up that cut on your cheek and then you will get some rest."

"Yes, big brother."

Michael smiles at them in amusement, his brother did and does take good care of his charges, past or present, no matter how old then may get. He steps forward, bending to lift the beaten seraph off the ground. "On your feet, Zachariah." He stumbles as he settles him on his feet, blood dripping down from his hairline and wheezing still. "Michael! Michael you understand—"

"I would understand why you tried to permanently incapacitated me?"

"I—I—"

He heaves a sigh. "Be silent, Zachariah."

…

True to his word, the Virtues all come to a stand still at the sight of the Gardener, turning to look at his appearance with concern and curiosity. He catches their gazes every time, and gives them a smile in greeting when their eyes meet, they raise an eyebrow in return before returning to their business once more.

"This way," Joshua allows the Healer to guide him to an empty bed. "We'll get you situated here."

He's guided down to sit on the edge of the bed, fingers curling around his chin again as the Healer guides his head around once more, taking in the damage with a better view within his well lit Infirmary. "The nerve of him." He smiles to himself in amusement as the Healer mumbles to himself in disbelief. "Striking one of _my _fledglings."

"I haven't been a fledgling for some time, though."

A finger pokes him on the nose. "You will always be one of my fledglings."

"Brother," Michael smiles at the relationship his brother maintains very closely with those that he raises. "Do you think you can watch over things here for me?" Raphael nods absently. "I'm going to borrow Nisroc and Haniel for a while, do you mind if the others stay here with their fledglings?"

The Healer turns to him in confusion. "Why only those two?"

"They know my savior the best."

…

He had not been prepared for them to return to his doorstep once again, and he glared at them when he pulled his door open to reveal them standing there shoulder to shoulder and smiling in greeting.

"What do you want?"

Haniel grins at him. "Can't two older brothers want to come see their younger?"

"How long have I been down here, and you only come when you need something from me?"

"We are trying to make amends now." Nisroc tilts his head slightly, giving him a wink as a playful gesture. "And we come to thank you."

The Grigori looked between the two of them rather closely. "It worked?"

"It did, little 'Yaza, rather splendidly."

His face fell into something more frightful, paler in color, as the two Power's separate and he finally lays witness to the third in their party hiding behind them. Michael smiles at him, and he stares in shock, before turning accusatory eyes to his two older brothers. "I told you not to tell!"

"It was an accidently slip of the tongue." The archangel steps up between his two Powers and Semyaza debates on whether or not he could possibly get away with slamming the door shut on them and having them actually leave. "One that I would never wish was taken back."

"Michael."

"Hello, baby brother." He smiles, pulling him forward into an embrace. "I wanted to thank you personally, for bringing me back to myself, so, I thank you."

"_Michael_."

"I am here, little one." Fingers stroke down the back of his head. "I am here to bring you home."


	4. Chapter 4

The moment he stepped within the walls of the Infirmary, he knew his older brothers knew of his presence, and immediately sunk low into his old guardians side. Raphael only chuckles, guiding him forward for a bed, and eases him down gently to sit on the edge of his given bed, and he ducks down lowly.

"Are you trying to hide?"

"You would too if you had _them _as older siblings."

The Healer chuckles, setting his staff to lean against the side of the table at the side of his bed, and rolls his sleeves up before he leans forward to take hold of his chin again.

"They're _horrible_!" a voice calls out from his left side. "They're such smother hens! Watching you like you're about to do something wrong!"

Joshua turns to laugh at his younger brother. "Hello, Zaves."

"Hey Josh."

Another voice joins them. "Perhaps, if someone would stay in bed like they're supposed to, they wouldn't be babysat." Zaves stiffens, making a particular face, and he laughs softly at the sight of it. Zaveriel turns slowly, and from around his arm, Joshua can see their older brother. Oren's staring at Zaves, arms crossed and both eyebrows raised, Zaves waves slightly. "H-Hey, Ori."

The Captain points to his abandoned bed. "Go, mister."

"Aww, but Ori, it's so boring!" Zaves throws his hands up. "I'm not even tired!"

"I can make you tired."

"Are you….Are you threatening to _drug _me?"

Their older brother shakes his head. "It's not a threat if you get back in your bed."

"But—"

"Zaveriel, so help me," Oren points his finger at him. "If you don't get back there, I will drag you there myself."

The messenger throws his arms back down to his sides. "But its boooooring!" he whines pitifully. "All I do is lay there! I _need _to be _entertained_!"

"Oren," Zed chuckles as he walks passed them both, to meet at his other younger brothers side, a jar of poultice in his hand. "Why don't you take him back and just _entertain _him."

Oren smiles, Zaves gulps, and the Virtue takes him by the front of his shirt and drags him away.

The apothecary shakes his head in amusement, smiling to himself, as he takes over their archangel's position. Gently, he takes hold of his chin, and turns his head this way and that, examining the bruises that cover his face, the cut under his eye from the ring on his abusers finger. "Hello, baby brother."

Joshua smiles up at him. "Hello, older brother."

"These looks like they smart a bit," he touches a gentle finger to one of the bruises and the Gardener flinches slightly. "I trust he was taken care of?"

"You should have seen it, Z, I can't remember a time I've seen our archangel so angry."

"I can imagine." Zed smiles as he pops the cap off his jar of poultice and tucks it into his palm as he adjusts his grip on the jar. He turns his head around, and Joshua rests in that position, feeling the cool goop being smeared over that side of his face. He watches, with an amused smile, Zaves and Oren just a few beds down. The little messenger is laying back in his bed by this point, their older brother sitting on the edge of his bed, they're whispering to one another and their smiles are unmistakable, Zaveriel whispers something, and their older brother responds in kind. He can't see where his hands are, but his muscles flex, and their younger brother jolts softly, his hand flying down and out of sight. "I would never want to meet that side of him, myself."

The Virtue turns his head around and rubs a good sized glob of the goop over those bruises, massaging it in gently.

"He is rather protective, though, isn't he?"

"He's a good mentor and brother."

A snort interrupts them, and they both turn a smile to their left, to their archangel. "I'm right here."

"We know."

…

"Home?"

"Where you belong."

Fingers stroke down the back of his head comfortingly, and he inhales deeply, from where he's pressed against his oldest brothers chest. The one who had banished them, sent them all into hiding, chased them all from their home into the unknown beyond. Semyaza turned into his oldest brothers chest, breathing in his scent; pine, ozone, and the burning embers of a fire, clutching tightly to the back of his shirt.

"You and yours."

"We can come home?"

Michael nods above him, settling his hand a top his head, pulling it back slightly.

"And never leave it again." He rubs a finger down the Grigori Captain's nose. "Come home, little 'Yaza?"

"Yes." He nods, tucking himself back against the oldest archangel's chest, listening to the sound of a familiar heartbeat. "I want to come home."

He feels his older brother nod in affirmation, and his arm unwinds from his back to wave at his two Powers, he hears them step forward from behind.

"I apologize for this, baby brother, but there is a certain image we must maintain until all of our abusers have been brought to rights."

"Wha—"

He goes still at the sight of it, shrinking closer to his older brother, fear lacing his very being. His trust had gotten him captured again, and by those he had thought would never turn on him, there was no explanation as to why they would have such a thing in their hands. Haniel held a pair of manacles, Nisroc a collar of spikes, and they both looked as though it pained them greatly to hold such things in their grasp.

Michael's grip around him tightened when he felt him twitch, holding him in place, and he let go the faintest of whimpers.

A hand rubbed over his cheek and he looked up with a fearful gaze. "We mean you no harm, little one. You are no prisoner. You are not being sent for punishment." The fingers curled down under his chin. "We need it for show only, and then you will be looked over, and healed of any incisions that may come from its dreaded grasp." His fingers glide gently around his neck, and he swallows involuntarily, when he feels them lift away from his skin. "You will be in the care of the Healer until he deems you well again."

He knows the archangel is reaching for the collar, and he tenses against him when he pulls it into sight, undoing the back, he pulls it open. "Stand still for me. I don't want to hurt you." Semyaza inhales deeply, lifting his chin slightly, swearing to himself that he won't let the tears that burn his eyes fall. They feel like little pins against his throat, as the archangel secures the collar around his neck, and he feels a tear escape as the lock is put into place and the collar is secured closed.

A warm finger brushes away the tear. "You will let go of those emotions when we get you home, alright?"

The Grigori makes a small noise in the back of his throat in reply, feeling another tear escape, and Michael gives him the saddest look he's ever seen cross the oldest archangel's features. He breaths heavily, trying to keep his breathing even, when the archangel reaches for the manacles, and their eyes don't break contact as he secures one end to his right wrist, and the other to the left, securing him in place.

Semyaza has never felt so vulnerable. In this position, he is at his weakest, if they chose to turn on him and attack, now would be the best moment for them to do so. He could do little to defend himself. Thus, was the purpose of his restraints. Michael feels his heart break at the fear that crosses the small Grigori's eyes, no angel should ever feel such fear as this was, and especially not towards him. He had always made sure that the younger angel's knew how much they meant to him, and how much he cared for them.

There would be comfort later, in the safety of the Healer's domain, under the warmth of his ever watching gaze.

He curls his hands around both of the younger angel's cheeks. "It is only until we reach the Infirmary." Thumbs rub away the sneaky tears that escape his best attempts to stay them. "I promise you, baby brother."

The might first born looked up to the two behind him, fingers still curled around his face, and nods to the two Power's behind him. He breaths a resigned sigh, exhausted from the fight, tired of missing a home he thought he'd never see again, feeling the hands of the two Power's curl around his arms.

Haniel has a hand curled around his upper left arm, and another pressed against his lower back, they're warm against his frigid terror.

On his other side, Nisroc has a hand curled around his upper right arm, and another over his shoulder.

Michael smiles at the three of them. "Let's go home."

…

The four of them landed at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the Infirmary, Semyaza stared up at it with wide awed eyes, shivering softly when the Archangel took the first step and motioned for them to follow his lead. It was hard to walk up the stairs, unable to tilt his head to see where he was stepping, trusting solely that his feet would know where to step on their own, and his two Power companions stepped up at his sides in time with him. Probably in order to catch him should he fall over.

He stumbled only once, and they caught him by the arms when he did, the archangel turning to inquire softly on his wellbeing. Semyaza made a small noise in the back of his throat, something akin to a soft whine, and they took that as their response, his request to hurry up so that they could get the dreaded collar off from around his neck.

Michael leads them up over the final step, motioning them forward as he crosses the great stone veranda that leads into the Healer's spacious Infirmary, stopping them just within the entrance.

"Raphael." The oldest archangel calls out for the younger. "I have another patient for you to care for."

The Healer turns away from the prisoner he had been speaking to, smiling in that way he does when he's in his element doing the duty that he loves so dearly, and his eyes go wide at the sight of the bound Grigori standing just behind his older brothers shoulder. He strides across the threshold with a quickened pace, moving his older brother out of his way, as he comes to stand before the second out of three angels he had taught the arts of an apothecary, he looks the young Grigori over carefully, cupping his cheeks in his hands.

"Hello, little 'Yaza."

Despite the emotions rolling in him as he's bound in the fashion that he is, Semyaza smiles at the sight of the Healer, Raphael is gentle and kind to everyone he meets no matter their history or doings.

"Hello."

His fingers glide of his cheeks as he slowly lowers his hands, reaching down and around, behind to the back of his neck where the collar locks into place. "Lets get this cruel thing off of you, shall we?"

Semyaza inhales softly when he feels the clasp on the back open, the fitted hold of the collar giving way as it's pulled apart, and he swallows hard when it's pulled away from his neck, passed over to the older archangel to take. He reaches up silently, his hands shaking lightly, to grasp at the front of the Healer's tunic. The third-born's fingers glide over his neck as he pulls his hands back around to his front, rubbing them up his arms gently as he reaches for his hands, their eyes locked together in a silent gaze. "I'm going to take care of you now, alright?" Semyaza nods as his fingers come to curl around his wrists, undoing the clasp on the manacles, holding one hand out to pass them over to the older archangel, and returning it to curl his fingers around his wrists gently, rubbing away the irritation that the metal had left against his skin. "Let's get you a bed made up, come."

He's tugged forward gently, and he moves freely in step with the Healer, feeling a sense of comfort as he curls an arm around him and guides him away.

Michael watches them go, turning slightly to nod at his two Powers, relieving them of their duty at his side. He watches Haniel wander over to Zaveriel's bed, the two of them more trouble then their worth something and shakes his head when they share a smile and he sits on the edge od his bed. Nisroc returns to his charges side, sitting on the edge of young Paul's bed, pulling his youngest to sit up on his knee as they whisper between each other. He'll let them be for a while, allow them to catch up with their friends and family, and he steps forward to check on his old Sentry.

Raphael guides the worn Grigori to an empty bed and turns to face him, taking him by both shoulders, as he turned to face him. "I can see those tears that shine in your eyes." He leans forward. "Let them go, little 'Yaza."

The Grigori Captain sucks in a deep breath, staring up into the gentle Healer's eyes, and he shakes his head stubbornly. He had sworn to himself that none of them would fall, they would not soak his cheeks, redden his eyes, they would just continue to burn his eyes as they were refused their request to fall.

But his efforts are for naught, as he feels one tear escape, and then another. His fingers curl into the Healer's tunic again, as they fall despite his attempts to stay them, and he's relieved when the archangel pulls him forward into an embrace. He holds onto the elder for his life, shoulders quaking at the force of his sobs, hearing nothing but his anguish as it drowns out all other noises that come from the Infirmary around them.

Arms circle around him protectively, hand curled around the back of his head to press him close, hiding him from the others around them as he loses his composure.

…

He comes to a stop at the others back, a few paces away, and crosses his arms lightly. He was going for another one of their deceivers, and thought it best to bring him with him, seeing as it was one of his flock that had been abused at his next targets hands.

Metatron would face more then just his fury.

"Gabriel."


End file.
